Halloween Special
by the infamou5 c0pyc4t
Summary: The monster hunters attack, sending the denizens of the castle in a panic while protecting the Snow Crystal! MA
1. Chapter 1

**Halloween Special!**

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The hunters were upon them, eyes set on eradication and the revered Snow Crystal. Already, they had proven themselves a match for the whole collection of monsters dwelling within the castle, and now they had them on the run. "Split up! Reconvene at the crystal's chamber!" commanded Dracula Uryu before the anemia dizzied him, leaving it up to the mummy… or pirate to lug him over his shoulder and dash him down a separate corridor.

Following keen instincts and a nose, it was no wonder Toshi… Wolfman Hitsugaya reached the chamber of the Snow Crystal first. They'd made it in superb time; the hunters rarely made haste whenever they attacked. But now they've set their sights on the crystal! There was no time to be lax!

"We have to hurry and fortify our countermeasures," he announced to his troop, only slightly winded from the four-limbed sprint. "Abarai, you…" He turned and looked to his comrades… only to see that no one had accompanied him.

The proverbial draft of desertion swept the dust from the corridor's empty walls.

_Damn Matsumoto!_ Hitsugaya punched the wall, his eyes lost underneath the shadow of his furrowed brow. It was all her fault, teasing and humiliating him in front of the others! Of course no one would follow a monster that was more house dog than vicious wolf!

Now wasn't the time to lost composure, he told himself, steadying his breath and exhaling. He wasn't without his means. He had his awesome ice powers to defend the Snow Crystal, and behind this chamber door were Hinamori and Orihime as reinforcements. His spirits dwindled somewhat adding the 'pumpkin monster' to the equation… But Hinamori was a solid force! Together, they'd manage!

"Hinamori!" he shouted, bursting into the chamber. "Prepare for…!"

The proverbial wind was waiting for him, casting from one end of the room to the other when he had naught but piles of jack-o-lanterns facing him. Was he alone?!

"Pa-pa-pumpkin~"

No, not alone, but he might as well have been, for none but Orihime pattered around the tower's room, moving pumpkins from here to there, stacking and arranging in tribute for the gem locked away in the chest situated in the middle of the room.

She looked at the wolfman and smiled at once. "Toshiro-kun! You're back already?"

"It's Wolfman…!" He caught himself before he could slip into her tempo and be provoked. "Never mind that! Where's Hinamori?! We have to prepare for a fight!"

"A fight?" Orihime's head tilted. "_Hmm…_" Her stubby hand touched her chin as she thought, and then she said, "Momo-san's not here."

"Not… here?" Hitsugaya's shoulder's slumped. It was starting to seem more and more like the curtains were closing on the monsters' night.

"You look sad."

He ignored her.

_Squeak! Squeak!_

Instinctively, his pointy ears shot up, and his eyes went to Orihime. No, not the ball! "Fetch~" Orihime had learned from Rangiku-san that nothing lifted a good dog's spirits like a quick game of fetch. And sure enough, Wolfman Hitsugaya gave in to the compulsive chase, barking merrily as his mouth went after the ball until he caught it with a pleasing _squeeeee~_. Proud and fast, he returned it to Orihime's hand, pleased to be praised and petted for his swiftness.

"_Stop treating me like a dog!_" he screamed when his sensibility returned, his hackles raised. But even when agitated, little Wolfman didn't seem like much of a fright; Orihime didn't even back away. His instincts were too strong, though he always tried to resist them. The wolfman was supposed to be one of the fiercest of the monsters, yet the dual-species came with certain vices. His humanity needed to overcome the canine. "Just tell me," Hitsugaya pressed as he breathed in his composure, "where is Hinamori?"

"Out there," the nub pointed to the window. "In the pumpkin patch." The pumpkin ghost stood up and drifted over to where she had pointed. And out her head went, her hands holding the windowsill as she peered down at the pumpkin patch. She leaned and leaned until her toes pointed downward.

Hitsugaya watched her, face unreadable as an obvious tangle of thoughts tried to fix itself out. But he could not suppress it. Not now, not with… "_Why are you naked under there?!_" the youngest monster exclaimed, green eyes shrinking as they zeroed in on the plump rump facing him like a peach.

Orihime turned to acknowledge his outburst, but the embarrassment and modesty she should have had was instead swapped with an offended air. "Boo," she gave him, her arms crossing to make a stubby little X. "Jack-o-lanterns don't wear clothes."

"That…! That's doesn't make any sense!" Wolfman shook in place. Like a thermometer thrown in a pit of lava, red crept up from underneath his wolf cloak until his head was all red and white. A jack-o-lantern doesn't wear clothes? Her whole costume was one big, ambiguous mess of cloth! She even wore shoes, he wanted to shout back at her to push the argument in his favor and maybe grant her some sense, but she'd already turned back around to continue her conversation with Hinamori.

The moon rose again, and Hitsugaya looked away immediately, snarling that his fellow monsters were all stupid. He should just banish her from the room! Send her away, and he'd guard…! He'd guard…

His thoughts trailed off, for something had caught his attention; not his sensibility, but his instinct. The scent was subtle, but very powerful to his nose. Unless he was some strange non-Wolfman being, he would've never even noticed. But the Wolfman noticed, the wolf overpowering the man as he turned his head like a spirit possessed him; the irresistible call of a full moon.

Yes, a peach… if not a plump heart; Orihime's ass showed off well as she conversed with Hinamori below. Long legs, smooth from her ankles upward, were slender, but thickened at her thighs, and led up to an ass that any man or woman in the village… er… castle would love to grope and squeeze. The cleft led down in a curvaceous line, but what drew Wolfman Hitsugaya's focus – both eyes and nostrils – was the glen of short-trimmed fur; specifically, it was the line separating the orange patch. The man in him resisted, but the wolf had greater instinct than he'd willpower. He padded over on his hands and feet, following his sniffer, closer and closer, until…!

"_Kyaa!_" Orihime, so enthralled in her dialogue with neko Hinamori, hadn't any idea what was happening behind her until Wolfman Hitsugaya's nose and mouth shoved against her crotch. She looked over her shoulder, down her bulky dressings to see just the bottom half of Wolfman sticking out; his upper body had already crawled underneath, his face already against her pussy and butt. A hot shiver zigzagged up her spine and doused her cheek with hot colors; he'd inhaled so strongly her scent that she actually felt it. In such an area, she was mortified. "_Toshiro!_"

Wolfman Hitsugaya had caught the scent, and he had hounded it to its source. Nothing more than indulging would suffice to him. She hadn't swatted his nose, shouted a firm 'No!', or kicked at his rear end as he tucked tail and scampered out of range. Therefore, he was all set to go! Breathing a lungful of her flowery musk, he stuck his tongue out and traveled to her gentle quim. Without the blossom of arousal, he had very limited access, but the coddle of his tongue was encouraging. One lap at her dormant clitoris made the whimper reverberate within her. The scent was quickly growing stronger. His tongue discovered the beginnings of a tasty moisture.

Orihime leaned back out the castle window, shivering and holding in a string of moans. Even from the ground far below, Hinamori saw that her compatriot was under duress. "Orihime, is something wrong?" she called up.

"Toshiro-kun… _Mmph!_" Her backside shuffled before she opened her legs more, letting Hitsugaya room to slurp more at her pumpkin pie. "Toshiro-kun is licking me!" she finally cried out, arching her back and carrying the last syllable into a moan that carried into the haunted night.

Hitsugaya vaguely listened to the exchange of these two troublesome girls, his ears picking up even scaredy-cat Hinamori's voice from beneath the orange canvas. "_Shiro-chan!_" she reprimanded him.

"Wolfman Hitsugaya," he grumbled against Orihime's muff, and then opened up her love tunnel with his thumbs. Where once flavor was so scarce now dripped with a succulence that Hitsugaya was eager to consume. His tail puffed back and forth in an idol wag as he slurped and kissed Orihime's cunt.

Outside the window, the pumpkin girl gripped the sill and held on like she would fall otherwise. She whimpered the wolfman's improper name before shoving back to his face. His tongue slipped and made a broad swath over her cunt. "Toshiro-kun," she gasped in shock, "that feels so good!"

Perhaps it'd started during the game of fetch or the proceeding pat; maybe it was the scent he had followed that led him underneath the pumpkin's brim; whatever had started it, his cock had emerged from its sheathe and stood proudly and readily and even painfully. He growled softly at a niggling twitch. He might have been granted the gift other canines did not have – opposable thumbs – but he did not want to stick to stroking himself to satisfaction. He wanted to bury his bone. Immediately, he leapt up from under Orihime's dress and hooked his hands at her shoulders. The difference in size – not to mention the bother of her huge orange costume – certainly complicated things; a good thing Orihime didn't try to buck him off, instead only muttering his name while looking over her shoulder at him.

Blind guidance and luck helped one of his eager thrusts hit the right cleft. His heat transferred to Orihime's with that subtle-yet-significant touch. "No other choice," lamented the overcome Wolfman before he slunk within her folds.

"It's going in!" Orihime jubilated as he split her around his shaft. He wasn't huge, but his predecessors had only been fingers. He was going to give the pumpkin a good carving.

He settled deep inside of her, both of them expressing contentment as he bottomed out. There was a mild swelling at his base, a knot to help conception, but it was more prominent in his Daiurufu Hyorinmaru state; Orihime would not have to worry about being stretched too much… yet…

Hitsugaya didn't let the moment linger. Though her channel was still in the process of accommodating to his size, he started to hump. His hands guided her back over his shaft, but it was not smooth. His beasty impatience and diminutive size were not a good combination, and her outfit didn't help matters. But as long as his cock shoved in and yanked out of her tight pussy, they both were sated.

"Dammit," cursed the fucking Wolfman. "I can't control myself during a full moon."

It was a crescent moon smiling in the sky…

Hitsugaya, having finally leveraged Orihime in a deep bow to meet the height of his pelvis, kept smacking his five inches into her warmth, each one echoing with a very pleasant – or lewd, depending on one's reservation – squelch. His white, furry legs tickled her rear, and she told him so. He wasn't doing this to make her 'feel good', he would tell her; this was instinct. He planned to rut her to completion, gifting her with a batch of equally-enthused sperm heading for her womb.

It wouldn't be long, after all. His testes had already clenched, inexperience and excitement mingling to wrench the precious fluids through his passage to Orihime's. "_Ah!_" The hands operating Orihime by the shoulders swung down and linked around her midriff. "I can't hold on much longer," he wheezed, sounding like he was in the middle of combat.

"Me too! Me too!" Orihime chanted in reply, now moving back on her own to compensate for Hitsugaya's sloppy pace. She squealed, arms giving own so that she had bowed to the floor while Wolfman Hitsugaya arched. Before she could, he released, plentiful, half-bestial spunk traveling up her chute to sow where he planned. The heat ignited Orihime's pleasure, and while she wasn't quite sure what it was invading her deepest parts, she liked it. It felt sticky, but so warm; or hot! It scorched where it touched!

Hitsugaya's wolfy balls had not been drained yet. If anything, these first wads were simply a precursor to his intent! He continued to flood her, and overcome with the ecstasy, he threw his head back and howled at the moon. "_AhWooo~oo~YAH!_"

It was not the most convenient place to stand, in front of a huge, open window… not when hunters were on the prowl and had the power to demolish doors, sending huge chunks of debris and gales in the wake of the demolition. Caught in one such flurry as the doorway was obliterated, Hitsugaya dislodged from Orihime – unwillingly, of course – and sailed outside, howling once again as he plummeted to the pumpkin patch… where Hinamori was supposedly waiting for an update on the 'licking' episode.

"You are far too crass with your methods."

"What?! Did you want me to pick the lock or something?!"

"_Hmph!_ You let the monster escape." A blur of white crossed the room, moving too fast to give the bowing pumpkin a single thought. Ryuken gauged his landing zone, preparing to leap from the opened window. "Don't screw this up," he instructed before disappearing from sight.

A scoff came from within the rustled dust. "What a pain that guy is," said the second monster hunter, walking out from the cause of his own brutality. He seemed uninterested in the piles of pumpkins, and of course, the obvious chest in the room caught his eye. But before he could make a move for what was containing his prize, as if by some magnetic force, his eyesight was deterred and he found himself facing the rump of a panting pumpkin ghost! "_Gah!_" Isshin staggered when the wondrous vision was process, a squirt of blood leaving his flaring nostrils, his jaw unhinged. "_Thi-this-this is…!_"

"Huh?" The pumpkin stirred, its round head lifting and its plain circle eyes turned to the invader. Within its gaping mouth was the face of a pretty girl, and she regarded him with confusion. Normally, a girl would have corrected her indecency, but she just remained there, on her side, her ass in view while a series of telltale white lines leaked down her bottom leg. "Who-who are you?"

Isshin grunted and collected himself, stiffening his bottom lip as best as possible, putting on an authorial guise while still unable to mask the hot blush radiating from beneath his bearded face. "_Hmph!_ Is it not obvious?! I am the master monster hunter!" He flexed and posed. "Kurosaki the Unstoppable!"

Mystified, Orihime just stared. Truth be told, it was her first encounter with one of the monster hunters; she'd always been dismissed as the last line of defense during their previous raids. Her pumpkin hammer was about as effective as pummeling enemies with tissue paper…

Even without knowing this, Isshin approached carelessly. His pantaloons had stretched in front of him, but it was only when he loomed over her that Orihime noticed the insistent protrusion. Being almost absentminded, though, she wondered at first if it was part of his spectacular, frilly costume.

"Now as a hunter…" He caught Orihime's wrist, and in a trice, he was lying behind her, smiling devilishly as his free hand unleashed his erection. "I must deal with you wayward monsters."

Orihime, confused at first, puffed out her cheeks and resumed her character. "I'll protect the Snow Crystal any way I can!"

Her devotion made Isshin giddy, but he also remained true to his part when he said, "We'll see about that!"

Sloppy seconds wasn't something he was normally into, but when he was married, before his wife's untimely passing, they had spiced up their union by 'dealing' with the village's candy maker. Remembering watching his sun in the arms of another man, Isshin breathed an air of fondness and then took aim at the pumpkin's sloppy slit.

Hitsugaya's former deposit helped the larger girth slide into her, but the bulk prying her open made her wail. "_It's big!_" she outright screamed as he tunneled within her core. And she was tight, Isshin mentally praised, his face overcome with heavenly bliss as he relived the finest moments of marriage. He wasn't even all the way in when he came up to the back of her channel, further than Wolfman Hitsugaya could reach. The stop bothered Isshin, for he gauged what remained out of her as nothing more than an inch. She was handling him well; he could press her a bit more. And so he did, carefully pushing his hips to her backside, a steadily rising cry of mixed pleasure and pain accompanying his efforts until he finally secured the entirety of himself between her folds. Her cervix caved inward, but luckily, he was not trying out her tolerance for pain. Instead, he gave a moment of reflection and observation; the details that led to this glorious moment, the way her body tightened around him, her soft mewls as she waved her hips and tried to accommodate him. He'd interrupted her coitus – probably with another monster – but she'd no complaints. And with versatility, the previous lover's seed had probably already taken root! Isshin was just there to enjoy the spoils.

"A lovely monster like you turned to wickedness," the hunter lectured amongst a series of grunts timed to the push of his hips. "It saddens my heart." He caught Orihime's resisting arm and pulled her against a sudden series of sharper, harder thrusts that quashed whatever she would say in her defense; she just wept while taking his unyielding length. She could feel the heat of Toshiro-kun sloshing around the hunter's cock, covering her walls and making an even-bigger mess than before! Yet all that could be forgiven because of one thing: she was nearing her climax.

The pumpkin girl had been so distraught to have lost the sensation of Wolfman inside of her, she'd nearly chased him out the window but for Ryuken's blind intervention. Now the other hunter was making quick work of her anxiety, fucking her hard, with more certainty and bravado than the predecessor! She couldn't form a single word as he took her. His hand roamed her formless body, taking notes of her bust as he squeezed her outfit inward, and ultimately wound up at her crotch to finger her clit. O, it was glorious! One finger, and then two, switched with his thumb alternatively to try all sorts of combinations at that achingly sensitive area. It was the trigger that forced her legs open, her muscles quivering, and a scream rising as a spray of her mixed fluids splattered out from around Isshin's piston.

A man might've given her a chance to recover, but this was a success that Isshin took advantage of, now employing each fingertip to the spot beneath her orange crown. Static took her, volts of pleasure that overloaded her brain, making her tongue extend and her eyes go wide and blind, crossing and rolling upward. She involuntarily pulled against Isshin's grip, setting a pace on her own to make the most out of her squirting orgasm.

But Isshin would not be played. There was no time to shilly-shally (the fuck?) and he put his weight on her, rolling her onto her front so that he could fuck her into the floor. "What?! _Yah!_" Orihime's following orgasm came almost simultaneously when he flipped her onto her stomach, her ass taking the weight of his driving hips. Her cheeks helped his bouncing rhythm, and her quim was thirsty. He did not postpone or try to make this a lasting encounter; he could only imagine and dread the scolding of his annoying companion should he return to… this.

With an almost woeful cry, the man fired off his efforts, arriving through her gates and spreading his squirmy tadpoles throughout her innermost regions to seek a target, though Wolfman Hitsugaya's pack already got a firm head start. Heavy balls lifting as their payload drained, Isshin arched his back and made a puckering face like he was lifting a boulder. His right leg kicked as if it would speed up the process and make sure not a single drop was leftover in him. And when it was over, he fell on the carrier of his seed and panted. "Take… that! Monster scum…"

Orihime was even more exhausted than him, lying with her cheek on the floor in a puddle of her own spit. Semen leaked out of her still-occupied snatch, coming out aster whenever her muscles convulsed. She couldn't make much of a thought, but she knew she was at least satisfied. Now… now all that remained…

"_Ah!_" came a sudden gasp from within the chest. "It's almost midnight! The fool! We don't have much time!" Without warning, golden light exploded from the Snow Crystal's chest, and a ray of the same light zipped from the room and down the hall.

Isshin, once on the threshold of sleep, perked up immediately with a sense of duty. "Was that…?!"

"The Snow Crystal?" Orihime lazily finished.

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	2. Chapter 2

**Halloween Special!**

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The hunters were upon them, eyes set on eradication and the revered Snow Crystal. Already, they had proven themselves a match for the whole collection of monsters dwelling within the castle, and now they had them on the run. "Split up! Reconvene at the crystal's chamber!" commanded Dracula Uryu before the anemia dizzied him, leaving it up to the mummy… or pirate to lug him over his shoulder and dash him down a separate corridor.

"Dammit! How'd it end up like this?!" The reanimated powerhouse, Ichigo rushed down the hall with his thunderous footsteps. Including the rattling shackles, it was hard for him to make a discrete getaway. Speed was his only salvation for escape. Luckily, this patched-up body of his had stamina to burn. Breathing heavily seemed more of an instinct than a necessity now. He felt the tingle of electricity beneath his skin, whirring in his core and driving him to movement. As long as it held out!

A left, down a ways in this corridor, and then a right! Ichigo didn't have much to go on in ways of direction, but priority was escape. Escape, regroup, and then sneak to the Snow Crystal and finally end this bizarre dream! Only Inoue and Hinamori would be guarding the crystal, now that the monsters had scattered, and those two weren't exactly formidable opponents to a Frankenstein monster. He wouldn't feel good about it, but as soon as he got his hands on their treasure, the sooner none of this would exist.

A row of doors down this hall. Time to break off and hide. Third door on the left, he opened the rusty latch, pivoted in the room, and slammed it with a heavy _CHNK!_ His body braced the portal in case his pursuers had gained on him, but no such luck; he was safe, and that was what mattered.

Exhaling, he dropped his head against the door and contemplated. "What do I do now?"

"We just wait."

The voice was a woman, but it still made Ichigo nearly jump out of his dead skin! He froze in the traditional, caught-off-guard defensive pose; left leg lifted, one arm up, one hand out. But there was no need for such an overreaction; not when the only other one in the room was Rangiku the witch, brandishing her childish wand and the usual twinkle in her eye.

"Ra-Rangiku-san?!" Ichigo slumped forward, gawking at her as if she were a mirage. "What are you doing here?"

She harrumphed and turned slightly, her high skirt shifting when her hips jutted at him. "What way is that to talk to a witch? They must've put a brain with no manners in that orange head of yours."

Well, Ichigo guessed he deserved that. Rangiku wasn't the easiest woman to talk to, after all. He cleared his throat, said sorry in a humbled voice, and then rephrased his question. "Why'd you follow me?" Surely she would've been more comfortable with her dog companion.

"Don't be ridiculous," she said, her mood shifting to happy as she waved off his question. "It makes sense to go with the strongest of the group, doesn't it?" She jabbed a finger towards him. "And that's you, Franken-Ichigo."

The name made his eyebrow twitch and his teeth grit. "Don't call me that. Just Ichigo."

"Aw? What's wrong with that, _Franken-_Ichigo?" She leaned forward, hands clasping her wand behind her and gravity threatening to give Ichigo more than just an eyeful. He turned away before any sinful thoughts could dissuade him from doing so. Why her? Of all people, _why her?!_ The only matchup that could possibly be worse would be Yoruichi-san! Both buxom beauties knew how to play him and play him well. The mild glance alone, and he felt the whirring inside him increased. Best to just admit defeat, so Rangiku was given expressed permission to use that name. She giggled to herself, and then straightened; the security of her bodice wavered at her bust from the shift.

The monsters took a moment to look around the room, and it was nothing if not dreary. A torch on either side of the room, a chest of drawers, and… "A bed!" elated Rangiku, throwing her hands up and rushing to the cot. Ichigo frowned. Only she could think of sleeping with hunters on the prowl, but when she came up next to the mattress, her elation turned to disdain. The bed was dusty and the single sheet was torn, exposing the mound of hay within. Touching it with her hand alone made an uncomfortable crunch from the straw. She huffed and wound her arms together beneath her breasts. "Why would anyone want to sleep here?"

"I dunno," Ichigo dully played along, rubbing his neck. A lumpy and loud bed was the least of his problems; not when hunters were abound, and crystals that could change things back to normal were locked in a mazelike castle.

"Pipuru, Panpuru, Hainekkon!" A chant and a flourish of her wand, Rangiku touched the cot, and at once, accompanied with a few puffs of pink smoke and confetti and sparkles, a grand, brightly-out-of-place mattress materialized. As Ichigo blinked away his surprise, Rangiku sighed happily and fell across the bed.

The whirring happened again when he watched her. Rangiku was strewn lazily across the bed, yet she looked like she was modeling. Booted legs curling the soft sheets, the skirt just daring you to risk a peek, a bodice that hugged her heavy breasts snugly, and a natural come-hither-ness to her eyes as they gleamed from beneath the brim of her hat.

Ichigo would not dare to be tempted and forced himself to look elsewhere and consider the situation. He thusly decided to take a seat, his hammer set aside while his eyes focused on the cobblestone. Perhaps it was a good thing Rangiku-san made a bed, he considered, looking in her direction. She could fall asleep and then he could sneak off to find the Snow Crystal.

But then Rangiku sat up, looking over at him, a pensive look of disapproval on her face. She waited a moment until he, perplexed by her glance, asked what the matter was. "Are you just going to sit there all night?"

"Hm? What do you mean?"

Rangiku pushed out her bust, though it didn't seem like she meant to shock Ichigo – literally, as a few sparks spat from his bolts when he saw the twin hills straining against the strings of her corset. "Well, I thought you'd go out and make a mess of things. You've been acting so strangely. _Hee-hee._" She twirled a finger in the air at him. "You're strangely calm now, for a dumb monster Franken-Ichigo." She laughed as Ichigo, agitated, told her to shut up.

"But you're right," he gave her. The atmosphere took a somber tone for the moment as he reflected, "I shouldn't just hide. I need to get out there…" He got to his great feet, planted them, and lugged his hammer up to his shoulder. "And find that Snow Crystal!"

Rangiku watched him, and then sighed heavily. Everything was about that Snow Crystal. How boring, she thought. She'd defend it, sure, but having it brought up in all conversations of the night? It was less interesting than that, in her vain opinion. Now her only companion – by her own choosing – was planning to leave her, alone and bored all night so that he could either find the crystal or die against the hunters?

The hunters…

Let them wander long enough, and they'll get bored and leave. They were such slackers, thought the pot.

Ichigo made it to the door before ash and sprinkles and a charm made it to him, wrapping around him like tangible rope. "Hey!" He squirmed against the would-be ethereal puff, but even the strength bestowed by Doctor Karin-stein and Yuz-gor (…) was not a match for a witch's magic.

"You're leaving~?" Rangiku was using her pouting voice, her arsenal more resonating than Ichigo's shouts for release. He looked at her, and sure enough, more than cannons and missiles were pointed at him. His chest tightened when he saw Rangiku feigning defenselessness. She fanned herself against the oppression of desertion, though her other hand had started to pull at her bodice, letting her swollen flesh breathe, though the air was so very cold. Her corset dipped, and he saw more of her voluptuousness than he ever had dared to imagine before!

A man (according to anime law) would get a nosebleed, but Franken-Ichigo? His reaction was more… electrifying. (applause) He jabbered – _Was that the crest of pink?!_ – as he tried to defend himself against the visual onslaught. But to effect that he did not understand, his pulse – non-existent to this point – spiked, and he was lost in an electric burst that surged outward. All the energy imbued within him discharged all at once, taking his life with it.

Rangiku didn't expect such a shocking applause reaction. She leapt to her feet, but could do nothing more than watch as Franken-Ichigo self-destructed. Eventually, however, the storm ended, and Ichigo was left frozen stiff; a charred image of a monster with only the whites of his eyes visible. He remained motionless, exhaled a black cloud of smoke, and then dropped like a plank backward. The body certainly was durable, and the stitch work more than credible, or he would've landed in pieces instead of resting in peace applause.

The smoldering body blocked the door, though Rangiku hadn't planned to leave. The phenomenon was too interesting to just ignore; also, her teammate was hurt! Or dead!... more dead.

Cautiously, as if expecting him to ignite the air with light again, Rangiku padded over to him, her boots clicking softly on the bricks beneath her feet. "Are you okay?" she asked, leaning forward to get a look at his face, but trailers of residual smoke still rose from his scorched torso.

She got closer and closer until she was standing over him. The whites of his eyes were showing, but when she tapped his chest, a plume of ashy smoke puffed up from his gaping mouth. Rangiku eyed him a little longer before groaning and falling into a squat, cheek in hand as she watched her passed-out partner. "Jeez, you are a handful. You come in late and complain about the Snow Crystal. Now, when I need you, you pass out from a little teasing. How boring." She sighed and looked off to the right. "Am I really going to be stuck here, alone all night, with no one else? Mm?"

Something surprising caught her eye at the last moment, before the enchanted bed could seem like the most exciting thing in the room. At first, her eyes reflected nothing but disbelief. Could this… possibly be…?!

Then the disbelief settled, and she smirked devilishly.

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Ichigo wasn't quite sure how long he'd been out, or even what had happened. What he knew was that he was upright, feeling stiff and drafty. He groaned and tilted his neck; it seemed to be the only part of him still mobile. "Wha…?" The electricity that charged him and supported his function was steadily growing, and he could feel and see better the more the charge increased.

"Oh? Awake? It hasn't been too long."

"R-Rangiku-san?" Ichigo winced and looked ahead of him. A white blotch – the bed – and a black, orange and peach silhouette – Rangiku – came into focus. He was in front of her; her sitting on the edge of the bed, and him – in his humble opinion – inappropriately situated in front of her. A man should not be so near a woman sitting, especially in the front. It was too…

Wait… What was that… stretching out, pointing at Rangiku?

If there was any color to his face, it would have drained when Ichigo's full functions returned. "_What the hell is this?!_" It was his cock, of course, proudly rigid and pointing right at Rangiku.

"Don't you know?" laughed Rangiku, not at all bothered by the phallus directed at her face. She sat so casually, legs crossed primly while her hands balanced her.

Ichigo was more a ghost than a hulking monster, rattling as he gawked. Initially, he'd thought his frozenness was a result of shock, but he pooled his willpower to try to spin away and return the beast back to its cage. His muscles responded, but he did not move. Was this… the Hainekkon, floating around him, catching his movements and rejecting them?! No mistaking the mixture of sparkles and ash swirling softly around him.

Obviously the witch had been up to no good, and he assumed that she had this planned from the start. Even if not, she now had it play out this way, because there was no other possible reason for his thing to be out.

And that was the next issue to address. He was _HUGE!_ When did he grow such a package, when last he saw in his living body, he was modest about a close-to-seven-inches dick. This… _This!_ This must've been nine inches. If he returned _like this_, how would he be able to hide it away in his drawers full of skinny jeans?! A result of the life-restoration process, or – based on the stitching – had he been modified?

By Karin-stein and Yuz-gor? A darker place than he wished to go. No, focus on now: what he was doing 'out', and how did he wind up in front of Rangiku? Smartly, though it made his teeth clench and his soul shiver, he knew Rangiku was the single answer to it all.

There was no shyness or curiosity to her when her hand came up and used a fingertip to probe the underside of his enlarged erection. She bobbed it like she was testing the weight; heavier than average, wagging up and down like a sideways metronome before stilling. She giggled while Ichigo reacted in Ichigo fashion: loud and awkward.

"I've wondered before," she admitted easily, curling her manicured digits around his girth. Her smirk deepened before she added, "I'm not disappointed." Handling this turgid thing was like handling a joystick to Ichigo's face; tug it this way and his winced, tug it that was and he gasped, jerk it a few times and he did a variety of combinations.

"Ra-Rangiku-san! Lemme…! Let me go!" He pulled against Hainekkon again, a fruitless endeavor against a powerful enchantment.

Rangiku whined, now tapping lightly on the tip. "Let you go? But you want to leave me." She then did the impossible and made Frankenstein's monster blush; all it took was a cheeky nuzzle that put some of his beading goo across her lovely skin. "Would you do that?" Her most seductive tone; if not a witch, then a siren! Ichigo's non-beating heart thumped in his chest, echoed in his ears.

"I… have to find… _ugn!_ The Snow Crystal!" he exclaimed, leaning back as much as he was able, fighting her powers with brute strength and all but failing.

A strong will, Rangiku mused with an unworried giggle; without it, it'd be no fun. She said nothing more to convince him. It'd just be easier to show him just what he'd be missing if she had let him go. And what he'd miss were her luscious lips, glossy and naturally pouty, descending around his long extension. A good thing his jaw was stitched on correctly, or it'd fall off when he gawked. The unneeded panting reoccurred as Rangiku went about sucking and licking on him with the effort of consuming a popsicle.

"You can't…!" Ichigo tried to refuse, though he was ignored… and it was hard to complete a sentence while watching Rangiku work him against her cheek. She turned her head somewhat, seeming hardly distracted as she sucked on him, rubbing his cock between the inside of her cheek and the smooth ridges of her teeth. She tilted her head sideways and let Ichigo see how his tip distended her cheek. Her lewdness threatened to overload Ichigo's spectrum again.

With a loud, wet _POP!_, Rangiku took the cock from her mouth, hummed in approval while licking her moistened lips, and winked up at Ichigo. "If you stay," she purred, sweetening the already-sugary arrangement with a simple tug of thread that loosened her bodice, and like a blossoming rose, split open until her heavy jugs spilled out. Pink circles, hard nubs! Ichigo was terrified that he might lose control. His cock tightened as the electric whirl intensified. Was it possible to pop a stitch from getting too hard?

As if tits out and the promise of a blowjob needed extra, Rangiku leaned and drew up one leg to show off just how high up her little skirt could ride. That little strip of pumpkin-orange; could that line really be considered underwear?! "Maybe we can play~"

Ichigo was teetering on the fence, but she could see that the tilt was getting closer and closer to her side. Any man should've crumbled already; Franken-Ichigo didn't have the right sense, but she was not at all surprised when he gave out a defeated sigh, dropping his head. "Can… Can I stay?" he inevitably conceded, harboring now the intent of debauchery.

"Wonderful!" the witch cheered, clapping her hands together in front of her naked breast. "I'm so glad you want to stay! Just please…" She swept her hand out in front of her, dismissing the spell keeping Ichigo chained. "Be gentle."

But Ichigo did not make any such promise. Arms free, the monster joined her on the luxurious bed, causing it to shake from his excessive weight. Rangiku scooted to make room, but there was no need, as Ichigo swept her up, proving his enhanced strength to her as he instantly pinned her beneath him. Unrestrained, her huge tits flopped and rolled like the ocean tide. "Franken-Ichi…! _Guh!_" It was rare for her to be caught off guard, particularly by Ichigo, but he managed it, sliding his tongue into her mouth, filling her oral cavity with his eager tongue, not actually kissing her as their tongues tangled. Caught off guard, but Rangiku wasn't one to sit idle; she gave back all that was given and then some, gripping the cock hanging between them, stroking him and leading him to the silk hiding her tasty quim from him.

That proved to be a mistake on her part, for the moment his tip rubbed against the damp area at her crotch, Ichigo's starved loins heaved towards the cleft of delightful satisfaction. Once more, Rangiku was overcome by Ichigo's zeal. "Wait a minute!" She shoved at his broad, patched torso, but it was too late to even stall him, for his weight, power and dull-witted impatience had him packing up against her thong. Harder and harder he pressed, his growl muffled against the crook of her neck as he tried to pry into her. "_Wait!_" she cried again, but it was too late; shielding the tip of his cock, her thong's crotch dipped into her snatch before its elasticity gave out and resisted further entry.

Ichigo would have none of this. True to the origin of his creation, he seized Rangiku's panties and yanked at them, pulling upward to tear them from her body, but not before severely flossing her cracks and making her squeal. Useless now, her torn thong flung to the floor.

"Do you think it's easy to get those?" Rangiku snapped sharply. The issue of the underwear, however, was irrelevant; to Ichigo because he wanted something else, and to Rangiku because, in truth, she had conjured those panties from thin air.

Once more, Ichigo tackled her to the pillow, weighing her down, but this time, he hovered above her, staring down at what his hand was doing. No foreplay needed, Rangiku agreed, as he had already had some prepping done, and she wasn't immune to her own ministrations. She widened the gap for him, and he threw himself forward like a parched man into a desert oasis.

Their cry harmonized. Ichigo buckled Rangiku's wrists to the mattress like the shackles upon his own, his back arching as he robbed Rangiku's celibacy of its tightness. He burrowed deep, his size provided ease only due to her own juicy arousal, but he came up short of his full nine inches; he was not about to attempt to spear through her cervix, after all.

But they were both suited just fine where he had wound up. Not taking a moment for a breather, the monster began the metronomic routine of bashing their genders together in a wet fit. Rangiku's tits ricocheted with each one of his hammering thrusts, tossing up and falling back down until one of her arm crossed underneath them, restricting their movement to dull, manageable wobbles. And each time he drove in, she braced against the hurt that came from his tip thudding against her cervical wall. With the cock in action, she had to wonder why the improvements were needed! He contained himself well for a beginner, but there were still those pummeling mishaps.

Variety turned out to be a big advantage for the witch. Hooking her legs around his waist when he had set on a comfortable, shallow rhythm wound up with her ankles at his ears; when this position became too dangerous – the assault on her womb's door more frequent – Ichigo sat back and held her boots, now driving only with the maneuver of his hips. Like this, Rangiku could watch him, panting all the while with a finger cutely lying underneath her bottom lip. The bed, reinforced by her magic, still creaked under Ichigo's rhythm, warning that its stability was not meant to stand up against to the power of a monster. Never minding that, Rangiku was more than willing to flip over for the abstract of man, shoving her plump ass back at him as far as she would dare. He held onto her shoulders for this position… Well, he held on for a little while, but the sway beneath her _had_ to be given attention, so while one hand held her shoulder for control, the other manipulated her hanging breasts, heading alternatively to either nipple, pinching and plucking and playing the whole time.

"Rangiku-san!" he breathed in a voice heavy with lust and restraint. "It's… _incredible!_" He palmed the entirety of the breast he currently fondled.

Rangiku had to agree, her mouth making an O with slight, distinctive curves at its sides, showing off her rapture at breaking the boredom of solidarity.

Speaking of breaking…

The legs met their limit, and both witch and monster fell forward with the mattress. Ichigo caught himself at the last second, exhaling heavily to have kept his cock from stabbing the woman too deep. Considering the situation, albeit reluctant to do so, he extracted himself, his tip making a satisfyingly-audible exit from her dripping and now-gaping cunt. "Are you alright, Rangiku-san?" he asked composedly.

"_Grr!_ Is this thing broken?!" Rangiku sat up with a huff and smacked her heart-wand into her palm, stirring a few bursts of sparkles. Quietly, Ichigo asked if such a tool should be handled like that. "It's fine," she disregarded his concern, and then tossed the misbehaving Hainekkon haphazardly across the room. "But now what do we do?"

Ichigo held his tongue, though it was tempting to suggest that he'd no trouble continuing on a flat bed. True, the erotic vibrations would be dulled without the accompanying rock of a base, but he'd enjoy the creak of the springs within just as well.

Before the fear that the mood had gone could make him speak his mind, Rangiku happened upon a bewitching solution! "Ah-ha!" She moved swiftly, Ichigo's eyes unable to decide to watch her skirt bounce over her naked ass or to see the movement of her breasts from behind. She grabbed what she was looking for and held it up in triumph.

"… Your broom?" Ichigo's head cocked to the side. How was a broom any substitute for a bed?

"Jeez, you use your imagination, of course!" Rangiku spun her back to him and jutted out her ass. He saw very clearly the course of her liquid arousal running down, dispersing his earlier fear. In front of her, she spun the broom around, activating its magic to hover firmly, and then leaned across it as it sat horizontally in the air. Those massive tits of her rested over the handle neatly. Now all that was needed was to test just how stable her magic made the gravity-suspended broom. "Hurry, now," she called back over her shoulder, and then smirked. "I know that's not your strength."

Let her jibe, Ichigo decided with a snort, standing up and ambling forward with his rigid cock taking the lead. He'd have her swallowing her words soon. He planted a hand on her backside and spread, showing off her tiny, little hole as clearly as her short-haired pussy. A wickedness inside him insisted that he widen that tiny, little hole to suit him, but he quelled that instinct and aimed appropriately.

"_Ah~! So deep!_" Rangiku slurred as droning Ichigo filled her to the brim once more. Standing was his advantage, it turned out; no need to check his weight and fear smothering her. His hands were in total control; strong hands who saw her weight equivalent to nothing more than a feather. She made husky grunts, low-pitched groans as the Frankenstein monster took her. His hands, unlike before, seized her lower parts this time around; waist first, then a curious rubbing at her pubic hair and defining the nestled nub as her greatest source of stimulation income, and ultimately her behind, shamelessly opening her up so view both of her sacred holes, one already being so defiled by the monster cock.

Rangiku turned until she was bracing on only one arm on her broomstick; it was time to show off her flexibility, and she did so fantastically! Her leg lifted off the floor until she rested the heel of her boot on his shoulder. He hugged the pleasantly thick thigh, using it for leverage as her pussy continued to shift from the variety of positions she shared with him.

He took her standing a while longer, the access to her tits easiest when he didn't need to bear her inconsequential weight. But the sexual adventure led them to try the broom's limits a bit harder with Rangiku leaning back on it with her elbows while Ichigo hooked her legs over his arms. The broom stayed, hardly wavering an inch as its mistress was given the fuck of her life! True enough, she'd already splashed the stones beneath them with proof of his success several times; only once had Ichigo taken pause during one such geyser, and only to thumb her clitoris to see just how long she could keep screaming throughout her climax.

Ichigo, comparing to his 'past life', was ultimately astonished by his own resilience! In his human form – his _true_ form – masturbation took less than the span of a quick, amateur video on PornHub. Here, he was experiencing pleasures like never before, yet still went strong as he and Rangiku got kinkier with the afforded positions of a levitating object. Hands and ankles caught on the stick, Rangiku's dangling body was free for him to swing back and forth. She'd since gotten used to his bulk and length, now feeling naught but the ecstasy of being fucked by the monster. Thank goodness he retained his senses; a brainless brute would've been far less compatible with her comfort.

At long last, while taking her in this swinging position, Ichigo squeezed his eyes shut, a dragging moan rising to a mighty yell that resonated within the hollow room, trembling Rangiku to the core and igniting just one more orgasm as he poured over into her. Impotent seed surged through the portal and flooded Rangiku's womb. She stared down, gasping as she watched white, sticky streamers squirt outward from her stuffed gash. Dropping from her broomstick, she wrapped her limbs around her monster lover, screaming and creaming while he finished spreading his release within her.

He felt that he could drop, but that remarkable strength of his refused to let him yield. He merely dipped, supporting the clinging woman with the help of his legs, and wheezed briefly. He should have started to deflate, but the rigor mortis retained his unyielding size. "D-dammit," he swore softly. Rangiku was wheezing against his shoulder, recovering herself from her uterus' pummeling, but he hadn't been sated. Again, he cursed at himself before he began to move her on him again, churning his load and prepping to add another. Rangiku, of course, gasped and asked in disbelief, "_More?!_"

Ichigo was preparing to toss her on the bed, fuck her as he had originally intended. She had been the instigator, of course; this was her fault! She had to assume responsibility.

He was preparing to, but the chamber door suddenly burst open, and a dash of light raced to him with a familiar, "Fool!" Dick still planted in Rangiku's white-filled cunt, Ichigo came face-to-face with tiny succubus Rukia.

"Ru-Rukia?!"

_JAB!_ He screamed out in pain as the pitchfork stuck the tip of his nose. "Fool," she reiterated. "You don't have any more time!"

"Time?" Rubbing his nose, Ichigo quirked an eyebrow at the succubus. His hand went down, grabbing Rangiku's backside; he wasn't done with her. "What are you talking about?"

"It's almost midnight!" The pitchfork waved, and in a drizzle of light, Ichigo was shown a brief glimpse of images: Halibel with a bass guitar and wings coming out of the small of her back, Riruka in bloody bandages, Yoruichi carrying a scythe and Soifon dressed as a cat. There were others, but he hadn't the chance to account for them. "You'll have to wait until next Halloween to finish your journey!"

"Finish my journey?! What the hell are you…?!" A sudden envelopment of golden light erupted around the Frankenstein monster, stimulating him and making him shout out. "Dammit! This again?! Is it a dream?! Whose this time?! Dammit!"

Not answering his question, Rukia turned her back to him and pushed her butt out at him, letting his last image be of her costume following the deep curve of her ass. She smirked over her shoulder at him, and said, "See you next year."

No one woke up… Ichigo was simply suspended in the light until it was time for the monster to be re-summoned, for the bewitching hour to return on All Hallows' Eve.

ccc

**Merry Halloween! If you feel so inclined as to review, please leave your best Halloween pun! Have a SPOOKtacular Halloween!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Curse of the Cat's Paw**

The fluttering white light started to wane, though Franken-Ichigo was sure the effects would not soon wane. His eyes stayed shut well after he was sure the Snow Crystal's power had dwindled. "Damn Rukia," he growled with the heels of his palms in his sockets, draining the painful light from them. One hand opened enough for his paining eye to glance through, expecting the dreary world of Monsters to have ceased existing, finding in its stead his regular room, with regular walls and regular bed and regular sky and regular dad breaking in for a regular morning attack.

No such luck.

Both arms, sturdy as they were, dropped hopelessly to his sides as he gawked. Still moldy stone-built walls and black hanging chandeliers, thick plank wooden doors and heavy handles; Rukia's promise had fallen through! The Snow Crystal – or, as it turned out, _Rukia herself!_ – hadn't transported him anywhere! Perhaps the only thing that had changed was his company; he had none. No alluringly-dressed Rukia floating on still bat wings; no strange phantoms of random and scantly clad women dressed for the occasion; no Rangiku in a heap with her ass raised, her opening gaping and drooling his seed.

Nothing and no one but him and the reality of the Monster Society. Even his pants – and more importantly, his penis – were back in place. At least he had that, he thought with a sigh. He lifted his hammer onto his shoulder and sighed. Maybe all of it had been a dream… Well, maybe not _all_ of it, he lamented, for he was still a part of a wicked world with a Halloween theme. "If I could just wake up," he grumbled. He figured his best bet might be to find Rukia again. The pitchfork wielding sprite said that she was the Snow Crystal, and the Snow Crystal was said to be able to lead him out of this place and back home. Unless that was all a lie, but he had no other leads to go on. Rukia would have to be his destination, though he knew she'd make it unpleasant somehow.

"_Ha!_ You _must_ be asleep to not notice me, Franken-Ichigo!"

That voice…!

Ichigo pivoted, not yet bringing his weapon up as a defense, for he recognized that voice. It came from behind him, yet there was no one on the ground or bed. His eyes searched, scanning the room and even the ceiling's corners for evidence of another person, all to no avail. Playing a game, he suspected with an irritated growl. "Come out!" he demanded. His hammer swished through the air, stopping steadily in front of him as he clasped the long handle with both hands. The manacles rattled at his wrists. He searched the shadows again, and this time caught the two jubilant orbs of amber shimmering like lanterns. "You're there!" he proclaimed hard, as if he'd swing an arc of spiritual energies up to the apparition.

It happened in a blur; the phantom rushed from its hiding place meet him on the ground, but it swiftly bypassed him. His cumbersome body would not be able to follow such speed! He spun around to try to follow, his heavy boots scuffing dust from the floor in his inelegant pivot. Keeping his poise taut and ready, his hammer still guarding in front of him, he faced the grinning metal held aloft across its owner's shoulders. A sleek, smooth scythe, one polished enough to slip souls from their hosts; Yoruichi held it proudly, but also laxly, her hands hooking lazily over the long shaft.

Ichigo was prepared to reprimand her for whisking around like an eerie apparition, but his voice came up short. Prude as he was – though flexible at times – not many men could shake off the first impression of Yoruichi's chosen costume for this world. Instead of the traditional, long-flowing and all-encompassing cloak of the grim reaper of legend, Yoruichi felt it suited her needs better to wear a cloak more resembling a hoodie than a robe; a hoodie that cut off at her upper thigh, showing a daring amount of leg, though hers were wearing thigh-high boots with long stilettos. But there was that thin section between skirt, fishnet stockings, and boot that was ebon smoothness, a leather latch around her thick, left thigh.

The upper part of the costume was far more risqué; very suitable to the buxom woman, even Ichigo would admit, though a voice of integrity told him he should not be looking! The robe was unzipped or just was tailored to be open down to the shallow dip of her navel. Its intention was obvious: to brag the flawlessness of her creamy skin, her tight belly, her bosoms bursting proudly in a daring bra that hoisted their heaviness with no promise of keeping them contained. It was there, in that deep and luscious line between heft breasts, that Ichigo's eyes found themselves stuck.

He just about overlooked the other, catty ornaments: the paws instead of hands, the cat ears on the hood and the cat collar and bell tinkling at her neck, and a lively cat tail swishing behind her. The bat wings threw him off – if he even noticed, as her curves demanded more attention than her mismatched accessories. Perhaps she was meant to be a cat demon, but the pumpkin-headed scythe begged more for the title of Grim Reaper.

"Y-Yoruichi-san?" Ichigo's mouth forced itself closed. He hoped he hadn't started to drool when gawking and sizing her up.

"You certainly are staring a lot, Franken-Ichigo," mused the catty demon. The weapon swept violently through the air, screeching with a row of embers as it carved the floor easily. The pommel came down so that it may stand and hold Yoruichi at a lean. The deftness of her motions revealed just how little support her skimpy bra – maybe it was too revealing to even call it a bra! – offered, for a simple movement made her breasts undulate like steady ocean waves. Ichigo half-sputtered and threw a hand across his lower face, anticipating a nosebleed or worse: a grin.

"What are you doing?" he started with a choked voice, doing his best not to peer downward. "Dressed like _that?_" Rangiku-san's witch outfit was a bit revealing, but her breasts had much more cover and support than the Reaper. Yoruichi-san _oozed_ provocation, luring eyes to where she wanted them.

She laughed, that loud, unabated noise of humor that made him feel dumb. He hushed a sulked a little, tightening his jaw and waiting for her to taunt him more. "I knew you'd notice. Even a guy like you can't resist my charms!"

Ichigo hesitated with a seething growl. What was that supposed to mean, _a guy like him?_ And resisting her charms? He almost pointed out that he wasn't even trying to look, but thought better of it. He shouldn't give reason for her to tease, after all. Saying that he could resist would be like saying _There's plenty to see, but I can hold off!_ And Yoruichi thrived on such challenges.

She tilted her head, sizing him up from head to toe. She came back with a grin. "You don't seem to be having much fun, Franken-Ichigo."

"_Grr._ It's Ichigo," he griped. Finally, he let go of his hammer with one hand to point. "And what do you mean I'm not having fun? This whole thing is a nightmare! How come I still haven't gone home?!"

"Geez, you're loud," Yoruichi returned idly, putting the tip of her pinky claw to stifle an ear. "This is exactly why I've come to you, Franken-Ichigo."

Ichigo's denial of 'Franken-' went unaddressed.

The smirk of Yoruichi's returned in a flash of arcing metal. The reaper's tool of choice gleamed just as sharp in the torchlight. "I've come to lend you a hand, and help you enjoy yourself more."

"What's that supposed…?" Ichigo was nearly _literally_ cut short when the Reaper lashed out suddenly, carving the air with a powerful _SWSH!_ Just feeling the air – which cut at his wrists – made him fall back, fearing dismemberment. Yet he was intact, thankfully. No seamstress in the caste but Dracula Uryu to reattach displaced body parts, but Ichigo was very done with those who lurked within these walls. He wanted out.

Not like this, though, he thought, dreading the upturned scythe.

Yoruichi leaned again; forward this time, careless that her bra might quit as gravity held her breasts. "Don't be so jumpy," she mocked. "It can cut something better than flesh."

This didn't make Ichigo feel any better, though he was still glad to be whole. Being Frankenstein's monster was bad enough without pieces of himself missing. He checked himself over just in case; head, neck, torso, waist, legs and feet and arms and hands, and – just to be sure – large dick; he checked the last part as discretely as possible.

"Now, Franken-Ichigo! You can stand and have no worries about this world!" Yoruichi said with confidence.

Without as much worry as before, even if he was smart enough not to trust Yoruichi-san, he crawled back to his feet. "You keep swinging that thing around," he started, "and what if you'd cut me?!"

"But I already have." She pointed at his hands; his normal, stitched hands. He himself examined them, and aside from not being the hands he'd known yesterday, they were no different than they were a moment ago. "I don't need to cut them off. I just need to sever your soul from them to put the curse."

"Curse?!" Ichigo fumbled and turned them over, searching for clues and finding one right away, glowing at the center of his palms; two pink paw prints like the pads of Yoruichi's cat hands. Not sure what it meant, he knew it meant nothing good, at least; nothing but trouble! He closed his fists and shook them and swatted them against one another as if the markings would crumble off. They didn't. They stayed with no resistance.

"They won't come off so easily, Franken-Ichigo! It's a curse. And you will live with it."

Moping over his hands, he turned to her with a scowl. "Well, how do I get rid of it?! That's how all these curses work, right?!" He was afraid the answer would be the same as ever: find the Snow Crystal. But of course, Yoruichi wouldn't make it that easy.

"Aren't you more interested in what the curse does?" she inquired, bending at the waist again – breasts wobbled beneath her – and twirling a claw at him. "I said you needed to have more fun, and these paws will help."

"What's that mean?"

As if in answer, the paw prints glowed brighter, their light only stifled when smothered into Yoruichi's bountiful chest. It had happened so deftly that Ichigo hardly had time to realize that he had been drawn forward by an intangible force! He had both of Yoruichi's breasts in his hands before his mind caught up, and of course, he broke down because of it.

"_Yah!_" he exclaimed in his faltering way, when something beyond his control got the better of him and compromised his integrity. He'd always wondered about the softness of Yoruichi-san's breasts, but those were ponderings best suited for privacy and nighttime. Confronting her firsthand with such an audacious method was despicable, and he'd apologize profusely when he let go…

He pulled, but his hands stayed…

It didn't take him a second thought to put the pieces together; the curse had stuck him there, cementing his hands to Yoruichi's chest. And rather than whack him as plenty other women would, Yoruichi just burst out laughing, erecting her posture to give Ichigo better access to them, even as his bullet-sweating face turned beet red and his eyes locked onto the little lumps poking out against her bra.

"What…?! What is this?!" His arms tensed, and for all the strength his reconstructed body, he couldn't resist the call of her tits. He yelled out again, reacting more dramatically than the woman whose breasts he hoisted upward, challenging their weight against his strength. They truly were plump and heavy things, proudly boasting pliant softness as his fingers sunk into the flesh. Ichigo must've been on the verge of fainting. His knees buckled enough that they looked like they'd forget themselves and stop supporting him. Would he let go if they gave out beneath him, or would his lusty touch drag her to the floor with him?

"A cat does not stay idle when he sees what he wants," Yoruichi explained as she casually folded her arms behind her head, pillowing herself with her plush paws while also shoving her breasts outward; she might as well have been modeling! Ichigo didn't want to admit it, his eyes scanning from her chest for only a second to drink her in, but she was the dangerous mix of beautiful and sexy. One could be observed in reverence, and the other was lusty enough to know when one was staring enough and had the mind to refuse. Yoruichi's form _beckoned_ attention, and her outfit kept it.

"Even if your mouth doesn't say it," Yoruichi said, a bit surprised when Ichigo's fondling hands rushed her bosom up, "your hands cannot resist what they want."

Ichigo, seeming ill, played with Yoruichi's tits as he never would have imagined before. He was inexperienced – even after Rangiku – and thought of doing no more than squeezing and sucking. But those paw prints possessed him to beat Yoruichi-san's tits back and forth, wobble them and slide between them and feel the heat accumulating there. He wanted to fight against this loss of control, but his lips felt oddly parched and they'd certainly like to sup on her hidden nipples.

Unhidden a moment later, for a thumb slipped up her bra and proved its shortcoming as the nipple popped free easily; one, and then the other by the other thumb, no matter how much Ichigo berated the act. And his eyes were trained on those points of interest. Heavy brown; the color of dark chocolate, he compared while saliva accumulated in his mouth. He was close to slobbering!

Yoruichi's eyes, just as his were on her, were trained on him. She shifted, her shoulders rolling in relaxation. She seemed more pleased by his comical refusal of his feelings than how eagerly his hands played with her, though she made a soft coo when his touch discovered her nipples. They had been hard… and sensitive. The bra did its job, though containing her breasts was not part of it. The fabric stimulated her and coaxed the flat little nubs to react and tighten. And Franken-Ichigo just could not stop staring. He was still restraining himself, though his hands had given him permission to act on his desires.

She caught the back of his head and drew him in. He stalled at first, the tension in his neck visible and his deathly pale cheeks a certain shade of rosy. Her pull was so steady and her lips – though smiling – had the faintest pucker to them. Was she his first kiss?! He almost wanted to call for a timeout to gather himself! Far fewer women would be as ideal as the beautiful Yoruichi, but fewer would also tease him about it afterwards.

"_Mmph!_" Her lips did not connect with his; his path was decided at a more extreme slant that plunged him in the swollen valley of her tits. Soft like cream, and lavender filled his lungs. His pants pulled. Whatever senses he had lost, whatever nerves had died in his reconstructed system or life-giving necessities like hunger, his sexual reaction remained on point; perhaps he got harder even quicker than Rangiku's magic! He turned his head and inhaled from the sea of tit he drowned in.

"Now, now! A monster like you should take advantage. A beauty like Death does not give gifts very often. Enjoy yourself," Yoruichi consoled the floundering freak.

Ichigo continued to sweat, leaning into her right breast and unable to stare anywhere but her temptingly-tasty left nipple. "W-wait," he stuttered, mesmerized. He remained compressed; Yoruichi had no intention of freeing him. His cheek squeezed against her tit.

He could fuss all he wanted, but he realized the futility of it. This curse had him, and Yoruichi the Reaper was persistent as ever. His cock was already yearning, and perhaps, given the circumstances and the futility, it might be right to indulge.

He'd probably hate himself later, but…

With a groan of defeat, Ichigo put his mouth over that tasty nipple he'd been eyeing. Yoruichi gave a sudden start, though she wasn't unhappy about it. She grinned down at his stitched face. "There you go," she cooed.

Ichigo's mouth might as well have been possessed by the cat's paw curse as well, for it moved as if compelled, covering the surface of her tits. Her brown nipples shimmered with his spit after he flicked his tongue across them. His hands, having known her breasts well enough, coursed down her body, tickling the smooth and subtle grooves of her abs. They curved around her belly and settled on the swell of her hips. She was delicious simply to touch; more so to lick.

He moved up, breathing the scent of her neck, and kissed her mouth. She allowed it, chortling against him and cradling his hulking body against her suppleness. His torso flattened her breasts between them when his groin reached for hers. The skirt was high, but his cock still tried for the apex, even behind the barrier of his pants.

Yoruichi took care of that for him, dealing with his belt first and lowering the burlap slacks quickly. He moved back a step, lending her a moment to size him up. If he had the increase in size – and maybe it was the influence of the carelessness of cure – he might as well flaunt it. But Yoruichi didn't overreact more than a satisfied huff. Her yellow eyes turned up to him, glinting.

It made him quiver. Her paws weren't even touching him, yet he thumped and spurted unceremoniously onto her skirt; a translucent ooze trickled down to the smooth slit of brown flesh. Ichigo wanted to add more to it, but in a more significant spot. If his hands really did yield to his deepest desires, it was no wonder they had not problem reaching for the hem of her skirt, wanting to lift and expose her snatch.

"Don't you want to know how to get rid of the curse?" Yoruichi mused, careless to the process of Franken-Ichigo picking up the base of her skirt, knocking her knees apart with his brutish method. He regarded her with a heavy glare. His logic was clouding over with dumb lust; a flaw of his creation. She laughed at his helplessness. Let her, he thought dumbly as his thumbs secured her skirt above her mound.

No underwear, though he had suspected…

He could think about ridding the curse _after_. He _needed_ this, her, now. She had egged him, and even if this was a dream, these dreams always ended before the good part. He decided to try, grabbing his thick prick and positioning to pierce her.

Yoruichi the Reaper still did not move. "The curse won't be over until you catch me," she said, and then shivered slightly as his tip found her lips.

As a shadow of death, she slipped from his hands without him even knowing. He staggered, pants dropping all the way down now and his dick poised at nothing. As clarity returned, but lust stayed, he searched hastily and found Yoruichi's backside facing him from the open doorway.

She leaned forward, and her skirt pulled up over her butt, showing the smile of her cunt just barely. "Franken-Ichigo! You can't catch me!"

_But the paws will lead you just the same._

With laughter echoing, she took flight from the castle, ready to lead Franken-Ichigo on a journey throughout Monster Society.

And first, he bemoaned, he must deal with this erection…

ccc **Outside** ccc

The monster hunters had taken their leave, so it was safe to come out and check on the comatose Wolfman Hitsugaya, who had fallen not long before the hunter's departure. Hinamori padded out from the pumpkin patch, her play-at-paws hands drawn up nervously at her bosom. "Shiro-chan?" The wolfman was downed in a crushed bundle of pumpkins, his eyes a pair of swirls, his tongue lulled out deadly. The neko maid fidgeted, for she hadn't the strength to cart the little Hitsugaya into the castle by her lonesome.

Maybe if she went inside for help, but a thud of a pumpkin crushed underfoot caught her attention and gave her hope. Who should be lumbering toward her but the strongest monster in the castle, Franken-Ichigo? Ignoring the glazed look in his eye, Hinamori was glad to see him approach and waved excitedly at him. "Franken-Ichigo-kun! Over here!"

He approached, giving a soft, seething groan…

ccc

**This chapter went through so many rewrites that I finally settled on something terrible: the unfinished. But I figure Yoruichi the Reaper should be the endgame, and I wanted to slot Hinamori in so I can break out of the obviousness of Yoruichi/Soi Fon pair-ups. And as immature as it sounds… I settled on 'unfinished' as the TRICK for not being TREATED last year: I got nothing in the ways of corny Halloween puns! Anyways, the 'bad news' is posted on my profile page. Read and lament**


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